The Talk
by You2rKillingMe
Summary: Like the title suggests, it really is 'The Talk'. Rated M 'cause I don't know any better.


[Running footsteps]

"Where the hell do you think you are going?"

"Isn't it obvious? Out. As in not here. Anywhere but here. Hell doesn't sound so bad compared to here."

"Like hell he's gonna let you."

"But, Dad-"

.oOo.

Ian: "So. . . I guess we're having 'the talk', huh?"

Son: "To my profound anguish, yes, I guess we are."

Mickey: "Don't give me that look, Gallagher. I'm here against my will as well."

Ian: [Sighs] "Where shall we begin?"

Son: "Seeing that you won't let me escape no matter how freaking torturous this is going to be, you can show me some mercy by ending my misery now."

Mickey: "Keep talking like that and maybe I'll shove your-"

Ian: "Mickey, we're not here to be counterproductive."

Mickey: "Fine. But let me get one thing straight. If any grandkid shows up, I'm blaming you."

Ian: "Me? How is this my fault?"

Mickey: "You let him date that girl."

Ian: "You said it wasn't such a bad idea. He was old enough to date girls. And she was a nice girl, still is."

Son: "That's right. She's beautiful and kind and confident and-"

Mickey: "I know, I know, but I didn't think she'd be this easy."

Son: "Hey! This is my girlfriend you're talking about. You know her. I invited her for dinner at our house. We never break curfew when we go out. What more do you want?"

Mickey: "I don't know. How about some damn heads-up like 'Dad, please don't come home early today. I'm planning on skipping school this afternoon and invite my girlfriend to If-U-Seek-Amy.'"

Ian: "You don't have to swear, Mick."

Mickey: "I didn't. That blonde neighbor once told me that that was a nice way to spell it."

Son: "It's fine, Daddy. I've come to know that particular word since I was still a baby. It's hard not to notice something when it's tattooed to your dad's knuckles, you know. And you two did swear an awful lot when I was a child, to the point that I started looking the words up and then made a formal request for you to stop when I knew what they meant."

Mickey: "We got it the first time you brought that up ages ago. There were times when I said 'What the shell?' for 'cripes' sake."

Son: "You wouldn't have had to go all TMNT on me back then if you'd just stopped using bad words."

Ian: "You have a good point there, but I don't think he's capable of that."

Mickey: "You swore as much as I did."

Ian: "Yeah, but I didn't do it in front of the kids. And I was subtle about it when I did."

Mickey: "There was nothing subtle when you said 'Come into my world'."

Son (scrunching his face): "Ew, gross. Why did you say that? My girlfriend put that in one of the mixed CDs she gave me."

Ian: "Which brings us back to the reason why we're here, you and your girlfriend."

Son: "I thought I had you. It was worth a shot, though."

Ian: "Nice try. Now, where were we?"

Son: "Dad was calling my girlfriend 'too open to sexual advances.'"

Ian: "Riiight. The thing is, we love you. We want to make sure that you won't do things you're not ready for. This is new for us, too, all right? This is the first time we know that our son is sexually active with his mainsqueeze. We want to make sure you practice safe sex."

Son: "Oh, God. If you're going to teach me how to use condoms, I'm going to jump off that window right now."

Mickey: "Trust me, if he tries, I'll be the first one to go."

Ian: "You two realize all of our living room's windows are, like, less than six feet above the outside ground and there will be no harm jumping off them, right?"

Mickey: "I'm planning to dive head first."

Son: "Same here. But to save us from unnecessary trips to the hospital, let me remind you I'm sixteen, practically an adult. I know enough about sex and STDs and unplanned pregnancy and contraception more than I think is healthy for me. Remember the meltdown when we found out the school's sex education program begins at seventh grade? We've already talked about this. And recently I've been. . . doing some extra research. So you don't have to worry, okay? I love you and I love the fact that I can always come to you and talk to you about anything, but that doesn't make it less awkward when it comes to this subject."

Mickey: "Tell me about it. But you are a kid. A smart kid, but still a kid. Our kid. The government has made it our job to look after you. We're not gonna stop you or anything. Just wanna know what's going on so we know what to say to the police in case they come knocking on our door."

Son: "So you're not forbidding me from seeing her?"

Mickey: [Scoffs]

Ian: [Chuckles] "Are you kidding? We are guys. We know what it's like to be a teenage boy."

Son: "Now I'm confused."

Mickey: "Don't be. He's not famous for his sanity. If it was just me, I'd say 'Do whatever the hell you want but make sure nobody gets knocked up before you finish high school or I'm cutting your dick off.' But not him, he has to talk about it, make sure you are prepared and shit. He even suggested we bought you this box of condoms a while ago."

Son (after seeing said box and being stunned for some noticeable seconds): "Wow. Um. . . thanks, I guess. Totally creepy, but appreciated."

Ian: "So you know you'll always have our support and that you don't have to hide anything from us?"

Son: "I guess. . . But it's easy for you to say. We're talking about me, not you."

Ian: "You know what? You can ask us about anything and we'll try our best to answer, okay?"

Mickey: "Really? Have you thought this through?"

Ian: "Of course. We're family and family shouldn't hide things from each other. We'll be honest with you and you'll be honest with us. If you want something, instead of sneaking around, just tell us. We'll try our best to see things from your perspective. Sounds good?"

Son: "I don't know. Seeing things from my perspective? That's just a fancy way to say no."

Ian: "You'll be surprised by how open-minded we are."

Son: "I'm not sure if I want to test that, but the offer does sound tempting."

Ian: "What's it gonna be, then?"

Son: "Uh, do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

Ian: "Yes."

Son: "Dad?"

Mickey (after an intense staring contest with Ian): "Fine. You're 'practically an adult' anyway."

Son: "This means, starting at this moment, I won't keep anything from you provided that you don't keep things from me and that you'll try to 'see things from my perspective.' Deal?"

Ian: "Deal."

Son: "Okay. So, about earlier, you were saying that what I should have done was mentioning something like 'Oh my God. These pancakes are so good. By the way, my girlfriend and I think we're ready to start doing it. I promise I'll use condoms, lots and lots of them. So could you maybe give us some time alone in the house this afternoon?' instead of sneaking around, and you would be okay with it?"

Mickey (after a hearty laugh): "Sure, why not? Didn't you notice there suddenly was a lock on the upstairs bathroom door and a bottle of lube conveniently placed in the medicine cabinet when you started jerking off?"

Son (unable to process the new piece of information): ". . ."

Ian (glaring at Mickey with the I-thought-we-agreed-not-to-mention-that-ever look): "Great job embarrassing our son."

Mickey (smirking): "The deal was being honest, wasn't it?"

Son (burying his face in his arms with blush burning on his cheeks and ears): "Please leave me alone so I can crawl under this couch and die."

Ian: "Come on. It's not that bad. We're all guys here. We can talk about this."

Son: "What else is there to talk about? You planned on telling me I should keep entertaining myself until I'm sure the girl I'm with my soul mate and all that guano? Maybe grab a cucumber and demonstrate how to achieve the best result while I'm at it? I bet other parents don't say this to their kids."

Ian: "We wouldn't go that far. Although if you have some questions about-"

Mickey: "NO! Gallagher, don't you dare."

Ian: "Relax. I'm just kidding, but we're trying to be realistic here."

Son: "Thanks, Dad, you know, for saving my life. I don't think I can survive the embarrassment any further. . . which reminds me, you said I can ask you anything and you'll tell me the truth, right?"

Ian: "Right."

Son: "Now this is going to be so much fun. My turn. At which age did you lose your virginity?"

Ian (realizing he didn't really thought this through): ". . ."

Mickey (as a response to Ian's pleading eyes): "Don't look at me. This was your bright idea."

Ian: "Thanks for pointing that out. Um. . . Do you want us to tell you the truth or the good parenting stuff?"

Son: "Asking me that is not, in anyway, good parenting. But I appreciate the honesty."

Mickey: "Thirteen."

Ian: "Mickey."

Mickey: "What? It's the truth."

Son: "Thirteen? I mean, Dad, wow. And you, Daddy?"

Ian: "Fine. Fourteen."

Son: "So basically you were both waaay underage. And you didn't do it with each other, correct?"

Ian: "Correct. . . I'm starting to think that this is not such a good idea."

Son: "May I remind you I have told you that and yet here we are so let's get this torment over with and move on with our lives, shall we?"

Mickey: "Sounds fair enough."

Ian: "Fine."

Son: "Good. Now, who did you do it with?"

Ian: "You want names?"

Son: "No, God no. Just what were they to you? Friend? Boyfriend? Neighbor? But consider your ages I'm thinking maybe some rapist."

Ian: "Um. . . You can say that he was a friend. We met in class and I noticed him checking me out so I confronted him in the boys' locker room. We were both curious and he happened to have a condom and. . . we did it."

Son: "So a classmate you barely knew who, for all I know, might also be a pervert. Not to mention the first time you did it was in the locker room. Great job, Daddy. Very reassuring. Now I'm kind of scared to ask but. . . care to join us, Dad?"

Mickey: "A girl."

Son: "A girl? Weren't you gay at the time?"

Mickey: "I was thirteen. Practically anything made me horny."

Son: "Okay, that's. . . a lot more disturbing. Who was she?"

Mickey: "How should I know? She wasn't in any of my classes. I don't think she was even in my school."

Son (with his brows tied into a knot): "Then how did you know her?"

Mickey: "Well, I was smashing some prick's head into his locker. She walked past us, smiled at me, I smirked back, and then I shagged her in the teachers' lounge. Never saw her again in my life."

Son: "Wow- Tha-that's, for lack of better words, sick. I wonder how I'm not in child services yet. Are you sure she wasn't just a dream? A wet dream maybe?"

Mickey: "I'm pretty sure. The teachers really made a big deal out of it when they walked in on us."

Son (looking at Ian): "Is that true?"

Ian: "Yeah, I'm afraid it is. People couldn't shut their mouths about it for weeks, until the gym teacher got stabbed."

Mickey: "Oh, yeah. I forgot all about that. Always wonder who stabbed him. Heard it was like a real serial killer's job. Like one minute he was bitching some shit and then, BAM, he was bleeding to death."

Ian: "It was her brother, you dic-. . . tator. And she had to move after that incidence."

Son: "You are joking, right? Please tell me you two are joking.

[Silence]

Son: "OMFG, you're not."

Ian: "Sorry. You can ask Lip or Mandy if you don't believe us."

Son: "So what exactly happened?"

Mickey: "I wasn't in the scene, but I heard it happened so fast nobody knew what was going on until-"

Son: "No. I mean, with the girl. First degree murder aside. Please. Before I'm ruined for life."

Mickey: "What else is there to say? That was the whole story."

Son: "She smiled at you, you smirked back and that was it?"

Mickey: "Yep."

Son: "Did you at least talk before you. . . you know?"

Mickey: "Nope."

Son: "And yet you called my girlfriend easy. Sometimes I doubt your judgment. Then again, I don't even know if that place you had been going to should be called school. That girl might also get chosen to be a valedictorian or something if her brother wasn't such a psychopath. But I guess girls do like bad boys, huh? Noted. How many girls have you, uh, been with before you knew you like boys?"

Mickey: "About maybe half a dozen, I guess. I couldn't figure out why I didn't like doing it with them. So I kinda slept around. Then I decided to try it with some sorry-ass prick. That's when I knew I was probably gay."

Son: "It took only half a dozen of girls to figure that part out?"

Mickey: "All I knew was I didn't wanna be gay. I didn't want my dad to kill me. I didn't have much experience and neither did those chicks. I thought we were doing it wrong."

Son: "O. . . kay. Let me get back to that later. How about you, Daddy? Was there any confusion?"

Ian: "For me, no. I guess I've always known I'm gay."

Son: "Were you, uh, as prone to STDs as Dad?"

Ian: "I've always used condoms, save for your dad. That was why we had to get you a new box."

Son: "First of all, UGH! I didn't need to know that, ever. And second of all, you know I didn't mean that. How many boys have you been with?"

Ian: "Three."

Mickey (with a fake sneeze): "Bullshit."

Ian: "I'm telling the truth. There were just Roger, you, and Ralph."

Mickey: "Ask him how many men he's been with?"

Son: "Forgive me for judging but did you sleep with men while you were still a teenager? 'Cause I know you two've been together since high school and I know you would never, ever cheat on Dad."

Ian: "Um. . ."

Son: "Daddy?"

Ian: "Okay, fine. I slept with a couple of men back when I was a teenager."

Mickey: "Ask him who they were."

Ian: "If only I knew you that well, and you know I do, I'd say the only way for you to ever let me forget that would be for me to somehow figure out a way to brainwash you."

Son: "Who were they?"

Ian: ". . ."

Mickey: "Answer the question, Firecrotch."

Son: "Ew, Dad, and I say this with absolute disgust. Don't call Daddy by that in front of me again or the next time I hear it will be the last time you'll ever see me, alive."

Mickey: "Noted. Answer the question, 'Daddy'."

Ian: "Uh. . . Okay, fine. Um. . . One of them was my boss."

Mickey: "A married Muslim with kids."

Son: "And you didn't feel like being condemned to eternal damnation for that?"

Ian: "I was a kid. I thought he loved me. Lip almost called the cops."

Son: "Wait. How old were you?"

Ian (with eyes squeezed shut): "Fifteen."

Son: "Fifteen? FIFTEEN? You were younger than I am right now!"

Ian: "Sorry. I know I'm a terrible example."

Son: "Was this before or after you and Dad started seeing each other?"

Ian: "Before. I avoided him after I slept with your Dad. Then he left his family and I've never seen him again."

Mickey: "You forgot the part where he shot me."

Son: "He shot you? He. Shot. You? That was why you've never seen him again? You called the police to lock that pedo up for good?"

Mickey: "You think so, huh? You almost got it right, except that that was the first time I got in juvie."

Ian: "Your dad took the blame for stealing and they locked him up."

Son: "But Dad- Why?"

Ian: "He was afraid people would know we were gay and bash open our skulls if we told the police the truth."

Son: "So you took the blame? Dad, that was. . . I don't even know what to say. Stupid? Was that why you fell in love with him?"

Ian: "It was one of the reasons but I would have loved your dad anyway."

Mickey: "Then he almost ruined everything by paying me a visit."

Son: "You say it like that was such a bad thing."

Mickey: "It was beyond stupid."

Ian (grinning wide): "No, it wasn't. I was madly in love with you and I pained me not seeing your face."

Mickey: "See? That right there is what I'm talking about. That shit-eating grin™. That would have gotten us killed if someone had noticed."

Son: "I kinda see your point."

* * *

In case you wonder what the fudge that was. It was supposed to be an ending for A Reason. But seeing that I got like ten unfinished chapters from that and What's Ours (plus I already got another ending for it anyway), I thought I should put this up as a standalone and add season 3 events in later chapters.

By the way, I just saw s03e11 and am now officially heartbroken. I know this chapter is still rough and all, but I figure if I don't do this now, it might never get out.

Oh, I forgot to put the disclaimer so here it is:

I don't own Shameless. (Seriously, could you imagine if I did?)


End file.
